


Diary of a Redshirt

by UnderOrange



Category: Star Trek 2009
Genre: Multi, Reboot, Silly, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderOrange/pseuds/UnderOrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She joined the Security track in Star Fleet because you don't have to be good at talking to people to punch them in the face. Too bad she keeps getting stuck watching the security cameras instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Redshirt

Dear Diary,

Mitchell is dead.

I suppose that’s why I’m writing this.  If he hadn’t died I wouldn’t have broken down in the most humiliating way possible in front of the Head Security Chief of ALL people.  Seriously.  MY BOSS watched me sob like a little baby.

Yeah I get that its normal to be sad when you lose someone close to you.  They all assured me it was fine and a perfectly normal reaction or whatever.  Nobody else cried, though.  They all looked stoic and sad and respectful but they weren’t bawling with their makeup running down their face in black streaks.

God, I could barely make it through the memorial.  I knew Michell knew the Captain and all (he certainly wouldn’t let me forget, at any rate) but to see Captain James T. Kirk look so damned solemn and the stuff he said was all true and heartfelt and god; no wonder women and men alike fall for him constantly.  I hadn’t realized he could be serious, but there he was saying just the right things to remember Mitchell by.  He didn’t even give me a funny look for crying as loudly as I was.

I think the worst part about it all is the mystery.  Seems like most of the crew just doesn’t know what the hell happened.  Gossip mill has a few stupid ideas, I think the most ridiculous is the friggin’ godlike psychic powers one.  Seriously.  The Captain’s memorial just said that he died serving his ship.

Anyway, the suddenness and the mystery of it all was still effecting me when I had to go clock in to work the other day.  So Lieutenant Commander Giotto (Mr. Boss Man) is handing out our weekly assignments and, shock and awe, I didn’t get assigned to any of the upcoming away missions.  I NEVER get an away mission.  Ever.  Normally I take it with a nod but today I just couldn’t.  What was my shift schedule for?  Oh, yeah, watching the security cameras.  Because what I need right now is to sit alone in a quiet room all by myself with nothing more interesting than watching Commander Spock walk from his quarters to the bridge to the labs like clockwork.

Mortifying tears welled up and before I knew it I was sobbing about Michell, my schedule, and everything else onto his goddamned shoulder.  I think I even mentioned the hamster I had when I was 9 who died of mysterious heart failure.

He patted my back in that extremely awkward way of men-who-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-the-crying-girl everywhere and sent me to sickbay.  I was too far gone to even be terrified by the prospect.

Don’t get me wrong, the CMO is damned talented but that doesn’t stop him from being scary as all fuck.  Luckily, when I got there Dr. McCoy was holed up in his office and the head nurse took pity on me.  I musta looked a mess.  She didn’t give me any medicine or anything, which is probably good, I don’t think I need to be doped up to deal with grief.  We just chatted for a while and she eventually suggested the whole diary thing.  She seemed convinced I was keeping too much to myself and needed to let it out in a constructive way.

I think she was pretty concerned when I told her Michell was like my only friend and that was just because he was the kinda guy that wasn’t deterred by my crippling shyness.  Me and Nurse Chapel talked for quite a while about Mitchell.  She thought it was pretty funny that I could put him in a headlock even though I was a full head shorter than him.  I felt a lot better after talking to her, but I figure the diary thing isn’t such a bad idea either.

Anyway.  I have to work now.  All that and I’m still stuck watching the goddamned security cams.  I don’t think Giotto is convinced someone as short as me can keep up with the big boys and I musta set myself back lightyears with my crying fit.  Damnit.

Dear Diary,

I seriously have the most boring job on the entire ship.  “Join Star Fleet!” they said.  “See the stars!  Meet new lifeforms!  Adventure and exploration!”  Assholes.  All I see is fifty goddamn screens linked to the security cameras.

Hallways are not that exciting, guys.  If I’m feeling particularly adventurous I can watch the mess hall.  Or the observation deck.  Every now and then a fight breaks out in the gyms or recreation room but seriously, not very often and it’s almost always over in two seconds so I just get to watch the putzes file their way into sickbay to get yelled at by Dr. McScary-Pants.

Its getting a little easier not to miss Mitchell all the time, but it’s a small improvement.  I had no idea the perv had gotten to be so damned important to me!  He joked all the time about all the chick’s he’d hook up with and that one time he and the Captain tried to see who could get the most phone numbers in one night.  I sometimes suspected he only knew the Captain from that one night, because that’s the only story he ever told me involving the infamous James T. Kirk.

I would just nod and smile and laugh in the appropriate places, though, and he would smile at me like a lecher, pat me on the head and wish me a good night.  It was just so nice he would Talk to me.  Nobody else really does.  Its my own fault, I guess, I just clam up and that one time I tried to smile... I think I scarred that Chekov kid.  He always looks at me funny, now.  And not in the good “Oh he’s mooning over you!” sort of way, either.  The looks I get are wide-eyed and boarding on terrified.  Like a little bunny.

Hah.  Bunny Chekov.  What an ungodly cute image.  I’m a little horrified I came up with it.

Anyway.  The away mission is tomorrow.  Not like it matters I know or anything, since I NEVER GET TO GO ON THEM.  Fucking Darnell.  They always give it to Darnell.

Dear Diary,

Jesus Christ.  Darnell is dead.  So is Green and Sturgeon.  Christ.  I SAW Green, too.  In the hallways drooling over what I thought was Yeoman Rand.  Turns out it was the salt she had on the tray, or something?  I don’t know, we got the short story after it all went down.  I guess that wasn’t even Green.

Apparently this weird creature was parading around as some chick from the outpost because it actually killed the original chick from the outpost.  The guy from the outpost was all “its an anomaly, i feed it salt.  poor thing’s the last of its race!” but by that point it had killed three crew members and was after more and the Captain was LIVID.

Seriously, Captain can be just as scary as the doctor when you kill off his officers.  Its a little nice to know, hey, if I ever get knocked off I’ll have the smartest most insane captain in the ‘Fleet ready to rip the asshole who killed me a new one.

Anyway, so Captain decides the fucker needs to go down and that is exactly what happens.  Apparently it was attacking the doctor some?  And tried to attack Commander Spock?  Stupid alien thing.  It should know better than to mess with that trio.  I’m not entirely sure which one is scariest when pissed.  I’d have to see the Commander pissed and I’m pretty sure I NEVER want to see that.  Ever.  I’ve seen him spar.  They do not lie about that superior Vulcan strength.

I heard a rumor once about the whole Nero incident.  Apparently he got REALLY pissed off at the Captain of all people.  Only he wasn’t the captain at the time AND he was being insubordinate.  I’m sorry but if that isn’t further proof of the badassery of my captain I do not know what is.  When I looked for the security camera footage of the bridge that day I found out it was completely deleted.  Like, wiped clean.  I dunno who did it but they managed to convince the computer a span of twenty minutes just stopped existing.  Also I lied, I do kinda want to see the Commander lose his shit.  But only if I’m not in the room and have a good buffer of distance and time to keep me safe.

Anyway, its about time I quit dinking around and go eat dinner.

Dear Diary,

Well today was certainly a clusterfuck of epic proportions!  Tormolen (the poor bastard) infected the entire crew with some weird ass alien whoositz that made us all go batshit.  Including yours truely, because really, I need to be more of an emotional train wreck right now.

So Tormolen is dead now, it was kinda suicide but according to anything official making it back to the ‘Fleet he died because from the weird alien infection.  Which isn’t even false.  But seriously, when you watch a guy shove a butter knife into his own gut while you’re trying to eat your crappy almost-burger... well.  It just seems a lot like suicide.

All these away mission related deaths are making me rethink my life’s ambition a little bit.  I mean, not a lot but at least a little.  I’m totally not going to go touchin’ on weird things or eating crap off the ground.  I figure, I’m security, right?  Yeah it’ll be dangerous but so far everyone’s died of weird shit not related to getting shot.  I’m good at keeping to myself and my aim is actually damn good.  Logically I’d be a great choice then, right?  Yeah, tell that to Giotto.

Anyway.  Once we all get infected by the crazy everything blows up.  After the worst lunch ever I go back to work, right?  Sit around in the security room watching everybody else do the actual work.

I knew something was up when the main helmsman... Sulu or whatever, is running down the halls plus one sword, minus one shirt.  I had not realized how ripped the guy was, seriously, these uniforms hide more than you’d expect.

So he’s running around swinging the sword at anyone and everything like a maniac and I figure FUCK YES, finally time to do my damn job!  I call up Giotto to tell him “Heeeey serious issue on deck 12, Sulu’s got a sword and he’s not afraid to use it.  Nobody wounded yet, mostly because they’re running away.”  And yes, I didn’t even swear when I left him the message.  I’m just that fucking professional.

The response I get sounds a little like someone turned up the volume on a porno.  A porno featuring my boss and some as of yet unidentified woman.  I never want to know.  Thank god there wasn’t a visual.

I call up and warn Lieutenant Uhura, then.  The bridge needs to know shit is going down and if Giotto isn’t gunna do it I sure will.  I make sure to give her the full story, at least in part because crippling shyness aside, how can you NOT tell someone you just heard your boss make -that- noise.

I eventually hear this scuffling out in the hallway.  Its not the nightmare inducing porno scuffle, either, it sounds a little like a bar brawl.  And yes, thank you, I know what a bar brawl sounds like, I’m not that sheltered.

So I figure I better investigate and maybe try to break things up or something.  Watching folk go nuts on the security camera’s isn’t gunna do much and fifteen out of the twenty feeds are now showing our resident Russian rock star caterwauling away in engineering.  In the hall there’s a couple of ensigns fighting over a cute yeoman.  I really couldn’t bring myself to care, though, when I caught sight of Nurse Chapel walking down the hall like a zombie in the midst of the apocalypse.

Oh god damnit, its my shift again.  I’ll finish this later.

Dear Diary,

GOD DAMN, that was the most boring shift ever, all people did was avoid each other in the hallways and stare straight ahead in the mess hall.

Anyway, so I run into Nurse Chapel, right?  I’m gunna just start calling her Christine because she spots me and I realize she’s been crying her eyes out.  Feeling a little like I owe her I ask her whats wrong and she clutches onto me like I’m a lifeline.  After that I spend a really painful couple of minutes trying to figure out what the hell she’s saying between sobs and all I get is “Spock” “love” and “meeeeeeee”.  I’m not that stupid.  I kinda figure she’s been hard core rejected.

I pat her on the shoulder and suddenly totally feel for every guy that’s ever had to figure out what to say to me when I’m breaking down.  Seriously, isn’t Spock with Uhura anyway?  I know there was that rumor they split but it seems like they still eat together all the time.

So I tell her “Guys suck a lot” and “You’re totally beautiful, seriously, and do you think the Commander is that shallow?” and that one went over like a lead balloon because the next is “Noooo, I mean, its just that you are pretty AND have an amazing personality so its gotta be something wrong with him, right?”.  I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the right thing to say, either, but at this point my own head was getting a little fuzzy and every thought seemed to revolve around Mitchell and how I never really got to tell him how much he meant to me.

Long story short, we spent an enormous chunk of the emergency clutching each other and sobbing.  I tell her all about my shyness and how its easier to punch people than talk to them and she tells me about how she’s basically become the ship’s councillor cuz the last one got herself killed on the same mission Mitchell died.  Dr. McCoy found us like that, and with the detached professionalism of a very busy and rather harassed doctor he hypoed us and walked away.

Once the drugs kicked in and we sorta came back to ourselves we smiled at each other all awkward like.  Without the infection encouraging me it suddenly becomes fifty million times harder to talk but I force it out anyway.  I offered to listen if she ever needed to rant or anything because listening to everyone else cry all the time hasta be kinda tough for one person to handle.  She gave me a surprised little smile before disappearing to try to see if the CMO needed any help.

I went back into the security room and promptly saved every single recording I could of Chekov singing what I swear to god was an old love song between crazy Russian lesbians.  I also recorded a few of the earlier images of Sulu runnin’ around half naked.  Blackmail potential is the only redeeming thing about this job.

Dear Diary,

Today I was pompous and my sister was crazy.

Sorry.  Today was boring as shit.  I’m going to watch more old tv shows and possibly eat a whole tub of chocolate.

Dear Diary,

I spent a good chunk of the day today trying to hunt down one Captain only to find out there was another one causing a bunch of shit somewhere else on the ship.  Seriously, it was crazy!  I was watchin’ the cams with my usual sense of work ethic and dedication when I notice the Captain was in sickbay talking to the doctor at the exact same time he was coming onto Yeoman Rand pretty heavily on Deck 25.

Okay, so ignoring the randomness of two Kirk’s for a second.  My Captain might have a reputation for space-whorin’ but I have never... NEVER seen him come on to Rand like that.  Or for that record, anyone that is gunna be on the ship for more than a fortnight.  Sure he’ll disappear with a space princess or that one andriod chick.  And that one Ambasador’s assistant and the other girl... shit, I forgot what she was here for but she was green and sexy as hell.  Anyway, the point is, yeah sure the Captain gets around... but he has ALWAYS respected his subordinates.

Clearly something was wrong.

Also it is like, common ship knowledge that Rand totally has the hots for James T. Kirk and her body language was just ALL wrong.  She looked... terrified.

So I call up Giotto and tell him to get someone onto Deck 25 like yesterday to help the poor girl out. When confronted the Captain managed to take down three security guards in about two and a half minutes and I will be damned if I wasn't impressed with that. I mean shit. Those guys got the same training I did and I know they arn't total lightweights.

It made me wonder if that rumor about the Captain getting confronted by Admiral Pike in a bar after a huge brawl isn't actually true but once everything finally got sorted out it turns out the guy who was being a dick to Rand and beating up all the security officers was an intruder or something. It was weird, though. He looked exactly like the captain... but I guess that salt monster convinced a lot of people it was Green, too, so what can you do?

Anyway, the intruder Kirk kept running all around and getting into trouble, so I had to watch the cams like a hawk and try to tell whoever was closest to grab him. Fucker was clever, though, he seemed to know exactly where the cams faced and most of the time I couldn't get a good visual on him.

It was pretty stressful, all around, but... and I hope this doesn't make me a horrible person... It was nice to actually be DOING something, y'know? Instead of just watching.  Well, I guess it was still just watching but it was ACTIVE watching.  Or something.

Ah well. I'm meeting Christine for dinner. How exciting is that? I might be making a new friend! Mitchell would be so proud.

Dear Diary,

FUNNIEST THING EVER.  The Captain came by the other day to check into the Security department and whatever.  Apparently this is something he does regularly?  I musta missed it because I’m always locked in the security cam room of epic boredom.  Anyway.  Captain strolls on in and casual as can be calls my boss Cupcake.

I was taking a drink of coffee at the time and it seriously went up my nose.  Then, just to top it all off, Captain winked right at me.  Like I was just part of the gang or something.

I sputtered away for a while and life went on, but still.  Awesome.  I’m pretty sure this ship is just one big plot to kill all respect for authority I have.  With the exception of the Captain, of course, because I gotta respect someone who just oozes charm like that.  Poor Cupcake, though.

Dear Diary,

So I had never even heard of the Venus drug before today’s fiasco.  There was a little memo sent out about it.  Apparently it makes women (and I assume men) crazy attractive until it wears off.  Now, when I read that I thought “Why the hell is something so arbitrary illegal?” but I over heard Sulu and Chekov talking about it in the mess and apparently its such a crazy powerful effect that it’s roughly equivalent to slipping ruffies into the other person’s drink.

They looked well enough over the cam feeds, but really that doesn’t give you a lot of detail.  Kinda makes me disappointed I didn’t get the chance to glimpse the girls that were taking it in person, ya know?  Maybe that makes me a bad person.  Or possibly when Mitchell died he unofficially left me his perviness.

God, I miss him.  He was like my link to all the ships gossip mills and now I have to figure everything out from the damned news feeds and what I overhear in the gym and the mess hall.

Oh, but on that note, I guess I did have dinner the other night with Christine!  It was awesome, she’s so friendly and nice.  I don’t know how she can work so close to Dr. McScary-Pants but I think maybe it works because they’re so different.  She tells me all these ‘hilarious’ stories about how he terrorizes the Captain with hypos and some of the crazy shit he yells at the Commander and I just shake my head.  I’m not sure how the guy hasn’t been fired for insubordination and when I told her as much she smiled and told me they were the closest friends she’s ever seen.

I didn’t want to argue, so I let it drop, but that doesn’t sound a whole lot like friendship to me.  Maybe I’m missing something?  I usually am, when it comes to friendship.

I offered to show Christine some self defence stuff, though.  I figure just existing on this ship can be kinda dangerous, and it really bugs me they don’t teach nurses this kinda shit beyond the absolute basics.  They just expect hostile aliens to avoid sickbay out of respect or something?  Such bullshit.  We’re gunna do that later tonight.

Dear Diary,

Okay so Christine’s ability to defend herself is tragic.  Beyond tragic.  I’m pretty sure a bunny could hold her hostage by wiggling its nose.  I’ve forced her promise to practice with me two times a week until she can AT LEAST throw me over her hip or SOMETHING.

Anyway, about bunnies.  Chekov was sitting alone in the mess when we got there after practicing so Christine just plopped down by him and started talking to him.  Crazy.  I dunno how she does it, but I totally learned my lesson and didn’t try for the ‘friendly smile’ that seemed to terrify him so much last time.  Christine and Chekov talked for a while about ship stuff and the latest gossip and it was actually pretty awesome feeling like part of the group.

Eventually Sulu showed up and I definitely DID NOT BLUSH.  Even though all I could think of was him all sweaty and swinging around a katana half naked.  Even under the influence of alien crazy he looked like he knew how to use it though, and that is kinda hot, no lies.  I mostly stared at my food and listened.

They talked about this betting pool that’s been going on since the start of our mission.  Apparently Chekov is like, the ship’s gossip hub, and he takes bets for how long it takes people to go from ‘clearly interested’ to ‘shacking up’.  They even mentioned Martine and Tomlinson.  I guess Sulu made some good money off his prediction but the date they both quoted was totally wrong.  Sulu thought they’d gotten together like a month ago but it was really about two.  I finally got the nerve to tell ‘em, cuz seriously, people think they’re stealthy when they’re sneaking off to each other’s quarters in the dead of night but they’re really -really- not.

Chekov looked at me like I just gave him the galaxy on a platter.  It was freakin’ weird.  I now apparently have standing obligation to meet up with him once a week and tell him who has snuck off to whose bed and on which night.  This is what my job is, glorified blackmailer and walk of shame counter.

Dear Diary,

Something is wrong with Christine.  I’m freakin’ out here I don’t know what to do!  She’s just... not like she was.  Its awful.  She used to be happy and friendly and suddenly she’s as quiet and reserved as I am!

Everybody else has noticed, too.  For a while people had randomly sat with us in the mess.  Chekov, Sulu... even Lt. Uhura, a couple other communications folk, other nurses... shit, everybody would swing by and sit with us.  It was awesome, like fitting in at high school.  Only not really because there was a lot less crude humor.  Except when the Captain joins us.  Lord is that ever a fiasco.

Um.  ANYWAY, everybody else noticed she was quiet, too.  Most of ‘em pestered her and tried to get her to talk about it and shit, but that just made her clam up more.  Eventually people got the hint and stopped trying.  Unfortunately that means they stopped sitting with us again.  I kinda suspect if I had wanted I could have sat in the group... away from Christine, but shit.  Solidarity, ya know?

Lunches have gotten crazy boring though, with just me and Christine not talking.  Its not a whole lot different to before when I didn’t sit with Christine, though, so whatever.  If she wants to talk about it with me she totally will.

Dear Diary,

Shit seriously.  Even Christine gets to go on away missions now?  I don’t know.  Fuck, I have no idea what is going on!  Pardon me while I BEAT MY HEAD INTO THE CONSOLE REPEATEDLY.

Dear Diary,

Ffff.  Okay, Christine is NOT better.  She’s even worse off than before and she can’t even say a damn thing about it because its all been wrapped up so tight in red tape it looks like a christmas present.  A big, stupid christmas present.  Probably a sweater or something.

I’m about ready to pounce the Captain over this shit, and you know its bad when I feel the need to actually confront a superior over something.  Its not like you can punch your boss into listening.  Well, you could, but getting thrown out an airlock might be involved later.

Oh, that reminds me!  I’ve conned Chekov into trying to recover some of the missing security cam footage.  Little Bunny’s smarts can be bought with footage of Sulu practicing his katana in the gyms.  Its nice to know I’m not the only one that notices how hot his badassery can be.

Also, Spock is the scariest fucking person ever, is all I’m saying.

Whatever.  I need my best friend back.  I’m gunna find the Captain.

Dear Diary,

Captains Permission?  Check.

Successfully pinpointed the illegal still nobody technically knows exists?  Check

Successfully determined the owner of said illegal still?  Check (also holy fuck, its Lt. Cmdr. Scott, like the third in command of the whole fucking ship.)

Operation Fix Christine is underway, folks.  Lets get this show on the road.

Dear Diary,

Jesus Christ, it was hard getting even a few bottles out of the Lt. Cmdr.  Like, I had to resort to blackmail and even that backfired the first time.  Apparently the Captain knows about the still?  Shit, and doesn’t care?  And swipes stuff from it regularly?  I seriously need to look into getting onto the command track, is all I’m saying.

Turns out we agree on one thing, though.  Cmdr. Spock really is the scariest person on this ship.  And, as it turns out, he DOESN’T know about the still.  He won’t be finding out about it from me, either.

Phase one, complete.  Phase two is under way.

Dear Diary,

Operation Fix Christine has left me with the biggest goddamn hangover EVER.  I do not know how Scotty makes that shit but WOW.  It packs a punch.

HOWEVER, it was totally a success.  I think being able to rant and cry a little really did her some good.  She’s not like, totally one hundred percent fixed or anything, but there’s a definite improvement and she actually smiled some near the end.

Ugh.  Seriously though.  I can’t believe I have to go onto shift like this.  I feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out through my eyeballs.  I’m guessing “Sorry cupcake, I was getting my friend drunk last night” isn’t gunna fly as an excuse.


	2. Making Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More things happen (or the author finds a bunch of stuff she wrote and forgot to post ages ago)

Dear Dairy,

So, I'm feeling kind of bad about Operation Fix Christine. I wandered into sickbay (carefully wandered, and by that I mean snuck stealthily to avoid the good Doctor's wrath) and found them in a total frenzy trying to figure out how to treat some mysterious illness planet side. The Captain, Commander Spock, and Dr. McCoy are stuck on the planet as carriers. When I got there they had just lost contact with the away team and were frantically trying to piece together a cure with what little information they had.

Basically Christine, as head nurse, is stuck trying to organize the chaos. She looked like hell, but assured me she wass fine before shuffling me out of the way. Can't say I blame her for chasing me off, but seriously, I think she's picking up some of McCoy's scarier traits when stressed out.

Dear Diary,

We have a new psychiatrist on board! She came on when we were docking for the holidays! I'm crazy excited by this because it means Christine is no longer responsible for the mental well being of the entire ship! It also means we've been drinking for the last four hours to celebrate! I've never met her but she seems nice enough! She kept eyeballing the Captain, though!

Everything is exciting right now! Christine says I need to join the romantic betting pool! I refuse to put money on Dr. Noel!

She's nice but the Captain doesn't fuck around with shipmates! I'm not telling anyone, though! I think he secretly likes being a playboy and I'd hate to burst that bubble!

I'm totally betting on the next ambassadors assistant to be on board, though! The sly dog!

Dear Diary,

I swung by sickbay to pick Christine up for lunch the other day and Dr. McScary-Pants actually smiled at me. It was everything I could do not to run away, but I guess nobody has really died or been seriously injured recently, so I guess that could explain his good mood? Christine insists he's not as bad as all that, and said she's put in a good word for me.

I'm not sure what she could have possibly told him. I hope its not that he's terrifying, because I'm really not so delicate I need pity smiles. And also that's kind of a mean thing to tell someone, even if it is true.

Maybe Dr. Noel is really doing a good thing for sickbay in general. I mean, everybody seems less stressed out, and that's kind of awesome. I haven't been in to talk to her personally, but Christine was filling me in about her. Apparently she's really got it bad for the Captain. I mean, the kind of determination that actually upped her odds in the betting pool, its shifted from 'if' to 'when'. I'm still not buying it.

I invited her to my self defence sessions with Christine. To my surprise, she actually took me up on it.

Dear Diary,

Away team went to hell again. Couldn't do shit to help AGAIN. Dr. Noel was down on the planet and came back kinda shook up. Invited her to girls night with Christine, because hell, maybe psychiatrists are here for everybody else, but who do they go to when they have issues? That's right. Socially retarded security officers. That's who.

Scotty's been a little more generous with the hooch. I think someone tipped him off to what its being used for. I'm blaming the Captain. Quietly, of course. In my head, anyway.

Dear Diary,

Christine and Helen (that'd be D. Noel, and yes we're on first names now thankyouverymuch) conned me, Chekov and Sulu into a poker night. Chekov used the excuse to gossip like an old woman, and when questioned about it stated quite proudly that gossip was invented in Russia. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person at the table who believed him, which was embarrassing as all hell when everyone else started laughing. Chekov just grinned. Bunny boy is kind of weird about Russia, I guess.

I am still not able to look Sulu in the eyes, but he didn't seem to notice or mind. Between Christine and Chekov happily gossiping away, we were never short for conversation.

Midway through the game we went into red alert and everyone got pulled away, though. Things got resolved fairly quickly, the ship got knocked around some, but it was more like tractor beams than actual explosions. Nobody ended up in sickbay with more than a few bruises. I guess I could read the official report or whatever, but what's the point when I'm not even gunna be in it? I was disappointed we didn't get to finish the game, but how weird is it that red alerts have become so passe?

Dear Diary,

The gossip mills are just going WILD today. Apparently we're bringing civilians aboard. I am not even sure this has been done before. Its gunna be some kind of acting troupe, and they're going to perform for us. The shipwide invite went out only a few hours after I got my OFFICIAL POSITION GUARDING THE DOOR OF THE THEATRE.

That's right. I'm not actually going to be stuck in the fucking security cam room. I'm not entirely sure this day could actually get better.

I'm actually going to be more of an usher than anything but HELL, I don't even care. I'm going to be there, doing a job that isn't watching videos. This is amazing. This is beyond amazing. This is my chance to shine, man. I know its just an acting troupe and whatever, but what if some knucklehead decides to make a fuss over Hamlet? I'll be there. Shining a flashlight in their eyes and looking threatening.

Dear Diary,

Oh. My. God.

Not just an acting troupe, as it turns out. The rest is wrapped up pretty tight in red tape, now, but I can say that I was too far away from the actual action to do any damn good.

Christine invited me over to her quarters for a drink. She said Helen was coming, but not as a shrink, as a friend.

I don't even know how to feel right now. Like, yeah, I'm one big pile of failure but... When did I suddenly have friends again?

Dear Diary,

I have two words for you, diary! SHORE LEAVE. OH THANK GOD. I'm pretty sure we all need it, what with the Shakespeare fiasco. We're a few days out, but it sounds like they found a really nice Class M planet that might fit the bill. There wouldn't be any shopping or whatever, but I'm so ready to find myself a big gorgeous beach and soak in the sun for a few hours. I hardly get off the ship as is and my complexion is beyond pasty compared to what it was when I graduated.

I think I mentioned it before, but yeah, I've been keeping up on checking to see who's sneaking off into who's quarters, right? And for the most part the betting pool has been thriving for it at little Chekov's hand. I find myself in an interesting position now, though. Our little Russian Bunny is not as innocent as his big blue eyes and entertainingly skittish personality would normally lead me to believe. I haven't got solid proof or anything, but the other night I noticed this suspicious looking shadow just below the cam outside of Sulu's room. When I tried to rewind for a closer look I caught it flicker.

You might think "Wait, what does Sulu's cam flickering have to do with Chekov?" but Chekov's one of the few people on this ship that would be able to hack the cam systems so smoothly. Hell, there are only a handful of people who even know there is a live person watching the cams, otherwise I'm sure they'd be more discrete about the corners they find themselves necking in!

Lucky for them the Captain's so lenient on the fraternization rules and the worst that could happen is getting a little embarrassed over being part of the betting pool.

Either way, I made a copy of the mysterious shadow and flicker to add it to the videos of him caterwauling in engineering and Sulu running around the ship sans shirt. What? You didn't expect me to give Chekov the only copy of that, did you?

Those aren't the only interesting recordings in my big stash-o-blackmail, now, either. Its like the bigger the pile gets the less thrilled I am to have it. Do I really want to be the kind of person to blackmail my friends? I've determined that I should only use my powers for good. I'm not sure what, yet, but it will only be for the greater good.

Dear Diary,

After some fiasco or another (when ISN'T a fiasco involved?) the planet was approved for shore leave for the whole ship! We all got a little warning notice and Chekov read it out loud to the ship, which was adorable despite the lack of V's. Basically we have to be careful what we wish for? Or imagine or something? Its a pleasure planet designed to make what we're currently thinking about come true. You want a giant white rabbit, you get a giant white rabbit sort of thing.

I do not want a giant white rabbit, as it turns out. I want sun, sand, and ocean waves and I will damn well get them. I invited Christine and Helen to some beach yoga and after that there will be much lounging. If I'm not some variant of golden brown after this adventure I will consider myself a failure.

Dear Diary,

So every now and then the Captain will swing by Security in a more official capacity than normal. Its not usually a big deal, mostly an excuse for Cupcake to snap off some orders, the Captain to look all inspiring and sometimes make fun of us if we can't stand still for more than five minutes. What can I tell you? We're like squirmy five year olds in his presence. He inspires the kind of devotion normally associated with dogs and adoring younger siblings, but he also inspires rebellion. I don't think he tries, but the combination makes us kind of infamous with the rest of the fleet and actually famous with almost everyone else.

Anyway, not really the point, the point is he came by just a few days after shore leave to strut around in front of us and ask Cupcake a few pointed questions. We're all standing in line at attention and he's walking down the line, half paying attention, when he comes up on me. I don't know if it is the fact that I'm the only person in Security under six feet or my bronze goddess tan compared to the downright pasty men standing all around me but he couldn't even keep a straight face. It wasn't much, just a twitch of the lip before he covered it up with his normal charming smile, but I could tell he was amused.

He then preceded to congratulate me on my work helping Christine and Helen with self defence and asked if I wanted to help him teach some classes to the ship as a whole because he thought it was a good idea.

The Captain thought I had a good idea. THE CAPTAIN. We're doing our first class in a couple of days and I don't even know what to do. I'm like, star struck around the guy and here I'm supposed to sound competent and stand in front of a whole bunch of people and oh my god.

Oh my god. I have to go punch something and stop thinking. I can't believe this is happening.

Dear Diary,

With the help of Christine and Noel I've managed to make a sort of working plan for the self defence classes that we're gunna be starting up. I haven't heard from the Captain since he brought it up, but knowing him it's gunna happen when I least expect it or something.

Chris and Noel's input was totally invaluable. They told me what was helpful for them early on and what wasn't, so I tried to tailor the intro with that in mind. I don't know how much the Captain wants to do with this so I figure at least if I get stuck running the whole show I'll have something to default on.

Okay, seriously? It's like 2300 ship time, who is lurking outside my quarters? Ugh, I'll be back in a second. Whoever it is better be okay seeing me in an old tank and pj bottoms.

…

UGH, of course. Of COURSE it was the Captain. This is my life, after all.

Anyway. He was pretty happy to see I had been studiously working on the self defence courses because after the whole Galileo 7 thing falling all to hell he's decided it's going to be totally mandatory for the entire ship to hit up at least the basics. Apparently they lost a few science geeks on the planet and he wants to make sure that everybody will be able to defend themselves in a fight.

I'm getting the sneaking suspicion this is going to span more than just self defence, too. He asked me for a list of weapons I've been trained in.

Seriously, what have I gotten myself into? This is insane. I've been sitting in a dark room doing jack shit for MONTHS and now I'm going to be training people how to actually defend themselves? Thank god I kept up hitting the gym regularly, just thinking about it makes me jittery. I'm going to have to brush up EVERYTHING.

Dear Diary,

Our first class got postponed because we had to respond to the distress signal of some outpost. I didn't think much of it at first, but apparently it was pretty horrifying on the surface. Almost everybody was killed by some unknown attacker.

We were attacked in the middle of trying to figure out what the hell happened. Of course, we're awesome, so the attackers had to retreat for a bit when we thoroughly whooped their asses. It was long enough to get our away team back and pursue them.

So we're cruising after them and nobody has a clue what they actually look like when we get stopped by some weird ass voice. It called itself a "Metrone" or something? Mostly insulted our tiny human brains and called us violent thugs, then kidnapped the Captain to fight the captain of the other ship to the death.

Very civilized of them, yeah?

So we're all sitting on our thumbs, ship isn't working like we need it to and the Captain is just gone, god knows where, trying to save all our asses. I tune into the bridge cam because I figure if shit happens, it's gunna be there.

Turns out somebody (I'm guessing Commander Spock, or possibly the Doctor) managed to talk the Metrone into letting us watch, because sure enough, there on the view screen was Captain Kirk running around on a barren planet fighting with some freakish lizard thing.

I took the camera off its sweep and just zoomed it in to the main view screen. Figured it's my duty to keep watching the stupid fucking cameras, though, so I didn't catch everything.

The Captain was apparently brilliant, though, and managed to shoot the thing down with some sort of rudimentary gun? I don't even know how he knew about that kind of thing. Guns are ancient, nobody uses anything less powerful than a phaser these days. But whatever, Captain was awesome, didn't kill the horrible lizard, didn't shoot the lizards ship out of the sky, either, and the Metrone's insulted us a few more times and sent us on our merry way.

All things considered, totally fucked up.

Christine and Chekov are gunna be coming over to watch the tape later, though. I told Chekov he's got to bring the vodka because Christine's already claimed popcorn and I obviously shouldn't have to bring more than the nights entertainment.

Dear Diary,

Holy shit. I mean, HOLY SHIT. Christine showed up with the popcorn, as expected, and then mentioned that she invited Helen to come along. I was cool with that... but then Chekov shows up with not only with vodka (how did he GET vodka, is all I'm asking, I don't think he's even old enough, I asked for it as a JOKE) but he also had Lt. Sulu and Lt. Uhura in tow as well! By the time Helen shows up Lt. Cmdr. Scott and Dr. McScaryFace made there way over and wanted to know what the hell all the hubbub was about.

Despite the fact that my quarters had almost all of the command team in them, they are not actually command quarters and are much MUCH smaller. It was like fitting a football team in a dorm room or something, I don't even know, it was crazy. Once they found out why exactly everybody had flocked to my residence they all wanted to stick around for the show, too. I had to get more popcorn ten minutes in.  
Now here's the really awkward part, its actually really hard to be inconspicuous when carrying five huge bags of popcorn all the way from the mess hall to crews quarters. Guess who saw me? The Captain AND the Commander, that's who fucking saw me. Cmdr. Spock was just gunna let it all slide as a stupid human thing, but Captain Kirk was not going to let it drop. So much so that by the time I finally made it back to my quarters, he was still following me around doggedly asking me questions I couldn't mumble my way out of.

I'm sure you can see where this is going. I get to my door and I have the option to stare awkwardly at the Captain while he waits for me to open it, or actually go inside and expose him to the clusterfuck that is everybody who wants to turn his recent brush with death into a drinking game.

Well, I did a little of both, in fact, when it became apparent politely waiting for him to go away just wasn't going to work. We enter the room and almost all noise stops dead within seconds. Except of course the sounds of Gorn shrieking and shirts ripping.

It only took the Captain a half second to figure out what exactly was going on and with a shockingly delighted whoop of laughter he commandeered an entire bag of popcorn and somehow acquired Chekov's bottle of vodka. By the time I got over my shock he was sprawled on the couch over Uhura, Sulu, and Christin's laps laughing his ass off over one of his more pitiful punches. The Commander lurked in the doorway looking about as awkward as I felt, but don't tell him I said that because vulcans don't do awkward and I reeeeally don't want to piss him off.

Taking a bit of pity on him and trying to figure out where the hell I was going to be able to sit without leaning on anybody I don't know very well I sort of half mumbled that he should stay. I'm not even sure how he heard me, but next thing I knew he had found himself a place against the back wall with the stealth and grace of a wild cat. I think Uhura and the Captain were the only one's that even noticed he was there most of the night.

I dunno, man, the rest of the night was history I guess? I knew our command team was cool as hell in that badass-could-fuck-you-over-in-a-fist-fight kind of way, but I didn't know they were also the kind of cool that makes for a night of hilarious drunken antics. That rumor about the Captain getting recruited in a bar is looking more and more likely.


End file.
